Gazing
by Raistlin19
Summary: On a sunny clear day, one of Yakumo's many admirers gazes upon her wistfully. But Yakumo's eyes are fixed solely upon Harima... AU. HarimaxYakumoxSana. Sana is an original character based on her nameless admirers .


**Gazing **

Foreword/Disclaimer: I do not own School Rumble or any of the associated characters. This is merely a fanmade tribute. The following story has a few minor details that are different from the anime/manga, so it can be considered slightly AU. Yakumo's eye colour was changed and now Yakumo and Harima are in the same class.Yakumo can't read minds. Sana is an original character, based on one of Yakumo's countless nameless admirers (maybe he's the guy that picked up her rubber?). It is set before Yakumo becomes friends with Sara, showing a different side of Yakumo's personality.

Her flowing raven black hair cascades down her back, gleaming in the sunlight. She's wearing her perfect smile, like the cold winter sun, radiating light but no warmth. Her exquisite dark violet eyes, with the hue of a moonless night, gaze upon the back of Harima, with the fiery glow of desire, the burning flame of love. It's the elusive twinkle, the rare softness in her eyes that I'll never see gazing at me.

But through this window, there is also the sweetest sadness in her eyes, like looking upon a world of infinite sorrow, seeming almost as a tired sigh. All the vulnerability, imperfections, and suffering she's kept hidden from the world inside of her, the constant overbearing weight on her shoulders, can be glimpsed for the very first time.

As I look into them, I only see the image of Harima reflected back. Perhaps that's all those beautiful eyes can see...

Harima stares out through the open window at the birds chirping away in the crisp morning air. He seems lost in deep thought, even a single thought is quite a rare thing for Harima, his eyes are both focused and dilute at the same time. I wonder who he's thinking about so intensely, because I seriously doubt it's Yakumo. After nearly a year in the same class, Harima still doesn't address her by her name, always referring to her as Imouto-san. It still breaks my heart whenever I see her shy smile drop when Harima so carelessly brushes her off as 'Imouto-san', while unseen tears well up in her eyes as she is dying to silently scream 'My name is Yakumo...'.

The thought brings a bitter smile to my lips. It's sad in a way, how the only eyes Yakumo wants gazing at her are the eyes that look straight through her.

The loud resonating chimes of the school bell signal the passing of another period wasted. The chaotic murmur and buzz return to the previously silent classroom as all my classmates scurry off to get their lunches. Out of the corner of my eye, I see Yakumo stand up from her desk and walk toward the door to the hallway.

The noises inside the classroom dies down as people turn and stare. Yakumo, unperturbed by the attention, gracefully walks on with her head held high, her elegant and flowing movements making her seem like a willow swaying gently in the wind. The attention of the entire class is fixated on her ethereal beauty as time itself seems to stop and wait for her.

As she closes the old wooden door behind her with a quietly click as she enters the hallway, the class erupts into a torrent of whispers.

"Hey, where is Yakumo going for lunch?"

"I don't have a clue; maybe she has a meeting for Class Reps"

"She's so perfect. God I wish my life was like hers"

"She's so cute. Maybe she's meeting up with a guy?"

"I heard she still doesn't have a boyfriend yet"

"I wonder what type of guy she's waiting for"

"Definitely not a guy like you, she's way out of your league"

My friends around me all burst out laughing and playfully punching each other.

"What's with the serious face, Sana?" Nara enquired, still smiling.

"Uh, I'm not feeling too well, I'm going to go and get a drink, I'll be right back" I replied hastily as I got up to escape the commotion.

The faint echo of cheerful laughter rings through the hall as I'm sitting alone on the stairs. I'm trying not to hear but they talk so loud. No matter how hard I try, I just can't seem to drown the echoes of their voices. I can feel the weight of their expectant stares bearing down on me.

I wonder if they have ever seen the real me, not the idealized illusion they have constructed of me. I can almost hear the disappointment in their voices when they see me for who I am, I can almost see the pity in their eyes. And then, again with the whispers, will they ever stop?

I guess that's why I can't accept the feelings of all the guys that have confessed to me so far. It definitely not because I didn't think they weren't perfect and thus not good enough for me as some the malicious rumours suggest. No, it's because all those guys weren't in love with me; they were in love with the image of me within their minds. They wouldn't be interested anymore when they find out I'm not as flawless as they imagined.

That's where Harima is different from the rest though. When he looks at me, he isn't caught up with the pre-perceived image of me. He isn't interested in the rumours that are spread around, only making a judgement about people based on his own experience. His eyes seem to look at something only he can see.

I truly wish to understand him, to decipher his thoughts, to be able to see what he sees. But sometimes, I just can't seem to silence the thought of 'Well if he doesn't see you as a perfect princess, what does he see you as? Does he even see you at all? Or is he too busy looking elsewhere..." that constantly plagues my mind.

I really can't do this anymore. I can't keep up this charade, I can't keep clinging to the hope that Harima might understand me, I can't keep wondering forever. All these feelings kept pent up inside of me begin to overflow and overwhelm me. I put my head in my hands and begin to sob gently, letting my tears soothe my tumultuous spirit, as this life begins to take its toll.

The sound of soft cautious footsteps down the hallway drags me back to reality. I hastily wipe away my tears and put on a cheerful smile. No one must see me cry, not the strong Yakumo they all admire. The approaching footsteps draw closer.

"Yakumo, is that you?"

"Oh hey, Sana, what's up?"

"What's wrong Yakumo?"

"Oh, nothing I'm fine, I had a little headache and just wanted to get away from the noise for a while, but I'm perfectly alright" _Yes, what could possibly going wrong in my life..._

"Ah good, I'm relieved to hear that. You had me worried there" _You're anything but fine. I can tell from the redness of your eyes that you've been crying. Why won't you let me help you? If only you stopped holding everything inside..._

"Mind if I sit here with you and keep you company for a while?" I asked timidly.

"Sure I'd like that" replied Yakumo with a faint smile.

Minutes trickled by, slowly but steady, one after another, as we sat on the dark stairway in silence. There were so many thoughts racing through my mind but my voice refused to speak. I stared at the floor, too timid to look directly into Yakumo's beautiful unwavering eyes. I became increasingly nervous and restless as the heavy silence continued to loom over us. She's looking at me now; she must think I'm pathetic or weird.

There were so many things I wanted to say to her, to ask her, to confess to her that I've been keeping inside of me for so long. But now that I've finally got the perfect opportunity, my mouth is dry, my tongue keeps getting caught, and the words just refuse to come out.

But risking a glance at her out of the corner of my eye, I realise that another confession from yet another admirer isn't really what she needs right now. Looking at the fine lines of worry and stress on her face she's been trying to hide so desperately, she seems so utterly exhausted and worn out. I guess living a perfect life isn't all that it seems.

It's strange that I never really noticed before, how a person so popular, engulfed in a sea of admirers, could be so truly lonely. Being constantly surrounded by people who are all friends to you but there is no one that you are truly close to must painfully emphasis the feeling of isolation.

So maybe, right now, she really doesn't need me to be a Casanova with her, maybe she just needs a companion to see her through...

He still hasn't said anything yet. Maybe he's just the nervous type? Most of the other guys would have tried to smother me with superficial conversations, regardless of my mood or feelings by now. It's weird; I don't recall Sana being this shy. He's staring pretty intensely at the ground, I wonder what he's thinking about.

Wait. There's something in that look, there's something in his eyes that seems so familiar, yet something I have never seen before. It's so profound yet I can't seem to put my finger on it. The look in his eyes wasn't shyness, it just seemed infinitely sorrowful.

Perhaps the silence wasn't so bad after all. It wasn't really an awkward silence; it was more a comfortable soothing air of peace, something I've never experienced at school before.

I began to lose track of time and reality as we sat their together in the shade, listening to the quiet echoes of our classmates. Although there wasn't any conversation, there was an unspoken bond of companionship as we enjoyed the comfort of each other's company.

The high pitched chimes of the school bell cuts through the short lived peace and quiet. As I got to my feet gingerly, I turned to Sana and said "Thank you for spending your lunchtime with me, I'm sorry for taking up so much of your time, you didn't need to waste your break on me, I'm honestly fine ".

"Don't worry about it, it was my pleasure" he replied with a faint smile.

As he began to walk back to class, he suddenly stopped and turned around to face me and said

"Hang in there, I know it's tough. I guess I needed this lunchtime just as much as you did, because no one wants to spend lunch alone".

With one last look of gentle melancholy and a weak smile, he continued walking down the hallway.

It was only then that I finally realized what I couldn't see all along, Sana has the same gaze as me...


End file.
